When A House Is Still A Home

When A House Is Still A Home

I asked the driver of the horse jaunting ride we were on, to slow down. I needed this shot. This haunting shell with echoes of a proud existence. I could almost hear the good-natured grumble under his breath about tourists.

And then I formed a question, that proved more important to me than I had intended. “Why wasn’t this torn down a long time ago?”, I asked. And if there was ever a look that could have skewered me to that awkward seat…

Being a man of few words seemed to be his natural state of being, and leave it to Me to disrupt that. His answer turned my kaleidoscope to the next setting. He quietly and unblinkingly responded, “Why would we bring it down, when it’s a part of who we are?”

Why indeed?! How incredibly beautiful (and slightly intimidating), this simple and profound question that required no answer! This of course, spreads through my brain like an almost audible electric charge.

What in my life do I feel so matter of factly about? Just because I’ve moved on, am I really That arrogant to believe that what’s left behind fades from existence? Is this a natural instinct to tear down the old in order to make room for the new, or one born out of experience? When did new world values blanket old world sentiments? What have I abandoned, that needs me to revisit and appreciate?

I think it may start for me with a simple grain of truth. Awareness is only half the challenge.

As I travel through this life, I find the beauty in our world and people, fascinating. Humans have been telling their stories and giving us a window into who they are, since the first picture was formed. These photographs are frozen moments in my time that continue to resonate with me. I hope you will find an emotional spark or connection as you look through my life-lens. Always listen for the voice in the storm...